


Boy Hostage

by aflaminghalo



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Bondage, Capture, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, Knifeplay, M/M, Oral, PWP, Sensory Dep, rope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4327173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aflaminghalo/pseuds/aflaminghalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick's trained for this, but is he ready for it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy Hostage

Everything is damp. That’s the first thing Dick realizes, once the grogginess in his head clears and he can start to try and place himself. Everything is damp and everything aches. The second thing he does is to try to listen for clues, running down the checklist that’s second nature to him now. He might be tied and blindfolded, but he’s still got his other senses. He’s still got his brain.

His skin is clammy, and his suit clings to him, cold and making him colder. The air that touches him smells musty, but it moves. It’s almost imperceptible, but there’s a definite draft. So he’s probably in a warehouse, he reasons out, and if he’s in a warehouse it’s probably one at the docks which are always full of empty spaces of dubious and ever changing ownership. And where the chances of being stumbled upon so late at night are almost miniscule. He could always be wrong, but he can’t afford to not even try being right. 

He pushes into the way his muscles ache from being tied. His legs are bound down to the legs of the chair he’s in, but his arms have been twisted behind his back and he can feel it from his wrists right up to his shoulder blades.

He twists his wrists against his restraints, testing them. The ropes feel like poor quality and burn his skin where they chafe. Something, a glove maybe, has been jammed in his mouth to gag him, but the material’s slippery and instead of drying his mouth out, which he hates because it’s painful, it makes him drool down his chin, which is just humiliating.

He coughs around it, and the gag is yanked from his mouth. A finger takes its place, sliding across his tongue, far back enough that he chokes on it a little; at the size and the bitter taste of the skin. He doesn’t bite it though, that’s a lesson he learnt the hard way.

“What’s the matter, kid? Your Mom never tell you it’s rude to talk with your mouth full?” The accent is heavy, ugly. Dick doesn’t want to think what the man who speaks like that looks like. 

“Laugh it up while you can mister, when Batman gets here…”

He’s cut off by a sharp bark of laughter. “Aww, didn’t we tell you? Batman’s busy, kid. He’s not getting anywhere any time soon.” A heavy hand lands on his shoulder, sliding up to squeeze the side of his neck. It’s hot and greasy. Dick squirms away from the contact. “We’ve got plenty of time to get to know each other.” Dick feels him move around to his front, coming to stand in the space between his bound legs. A calloused finger traces Dick’s mask, teasing the edge. “And we’re gonna to get to know each other real good. Don’t you worry about that.”

Dick flexes against his bonds, trying to be discrete. There’s no hope, but that’s never stopped him before. “Oh, I think I know everything I need to know about you.”

There’s a shucking, slicing noise that Dick recognizes immediately. And it’s not a noise he likes even when he has both hands free. Switchblade. A cold edge traces the lines of his collarbones before nestling into the little dip that sits between them. He bites his lip, trapping the gasp that wants to escape.

“Now, that’s not very nice, kid. And I heard that you was the nice one. But now I’m thinkin’…” The laces of Dick’s jerkin are sliced through; the material going taut before falling slack against his skin. The blade traces further down across his stomach, making the muscles there tremble and tighten. “That maybe your sparklin’ personality ain’t why the big black cloud keeps you around.” He taps Dick’s belly with the point of the knife, emphasizing his point. “And it can’t be your skills because we picked you up like you were waiting under street light for us.”

Ugly snorts a laugh, and pushes Dick’s top back. The cold air slaps him with an open palm. His nipples ache from it as the knife blade traces them, and then the curve of his pec. 

“Maybe I’m gettin’ the idea though…. I mean, you’re an awful big boy to be runnin’ around in those little panties.” The blade jumps down to his inner thigh and dances up it, ticklish and terrifying and then the tip of it slides just under the seam of his shorts, just a tiny intrusion, just enough to make the elastic tighten.

Dick gasps, a choked, little sound as his hips twitch. 

There’s silence after it, like his little noise filled the room and pushed everything else out of it. He can almost hear the smile slide across the guys face and it makes him cringe inside. 

“What was that? Sounded like a yes to me, you little freak.”

“No.” His voice is small enough to get lost in the room; not a Robin voice at all.

“Nu uh kid, too late. No take backs.” The knife twists, Robin can feel it dig into his thigh, feel it glide over his flesh as it slides all the way up. The elastic hem of his shorts pops, is cut through, and then the rest of it. The other side is given the same treatment, and he can feel himself trembling against what he knows will come next. The outer edges of his shorts are flicked away, and the scrap that still covers him is pulled down. 

The guy whistles, and Dick can feel the slice of air as it breezes over him. It makes him throb. And then there’s the sharp edge tracing down his centre. It’s still cold, delicious against his hot flesh. He hates himself for noticing that. 

Dick can barely concentrate enough to feel him shift forward, and then the head of his cock is being enveloped by a hot mouth that sucks him experimentally, taps him with the firm tip of his tongue, then pulls back slightly. When it pushes forward again, there’s a hint of tooth sliding down across the soft, soft skin. 

He moans at the feeling, sighs at the feeling of the tongue rolling along the underside of his cock. He braces himself once, then gives up at the burn of the ropes against his skin, relaxes into the ties. He’s not in control here, it’s not his fault. He’s not going anywhere until Ugly says so. He flexes up into it, tentative, gentle.

The mouth pulls off him with a smack that’s obscene in the larger silence.

“Wonder what your boss would say if he could see you now, hmm? Or maybe…” Dick groans and twists at the thought- of Batman wearing the shadows, watching this, watching him, tied down and rocking the only parts of himself that he can move up into a stranger’s mouth. 

It’s suddenly back on him, sliding all the way down; narrowing Dick’s attention to that one screaming part of himself. Harsh and fast then gone without warning, and there’s a firm hand cupping his face, turning his chin like he’s being inspected. A thumb rakes over his lips, spreading the spit from the gag across them. “Maybe I’ll see if he’s taught you anything that might actually be useful. What do you think about that?”

Dick’s jaw doesn’t feel like it’s working properly, his tongue feels like it’s too big for his mouth. “Don’t… please.” His voice is breathy, weak from the sensations.

“Don’t what, kid? Keep you here? Show your boss the video?”

The blade scrapes down the underside of Dick’s cock, smacks against his balls; the flat side of it pressing them down. 

“This?” He moves back on Dick, taking all of him down in one quick movement. 

It’s too much all at once and Dick can’t help himself, he slips his bonds and grabs his captor, pushing his head down as much as he can, finally forcing his hips up in the one motion he’s been trying not to give in to. All his thoughts revolve around getting as much of himself in that mouth as he can, down that throat, that hot clench, working and swallowing all of him down, down, down.

He thrusts up again and again. Letting himself hear the obscene wet sounds, feel the wet, hot lips tight around him, clutching the hair beneath his hands more desperately with each movement, forcing himself into it until he comes, almost screaming. 

He thinks he loses time. When he comes back to himself, he’s sitting back in the chair. Arms still free, even if his legs aren’t. He pushes his blindfold up and looks over the familiar crags of the Batcave. 

Bruce sighs and presses his forehead against Dick’s thigh, presses a kiss into it. 

“Dick…” Bruce shakes his head, still resting against Dick’s leg. “This is meant to be a training situation, not giving you a fetish.”

“Way too late for that, Bruce; way too late.” He offers his wrists back to the man kneeling between his legs. “But if you want to go again, I’m sure I can show you where you went wrong.”

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, if you don't see everyone in these stories as able to consent, then I don't know what to tell you.


End file.
